


Perdition in A Purse

by fem_castielnovak



Series: WORST HUNTING TEAM EVER [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, F/M, Gen, Humor, M/M, Soulless Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 13:17:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5128997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fem_castielnovak/pseuds/fem_castielnovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on blowjobcas’s prompt: supernatural au where everything’s the same except it’s presented as a dark comedy with team free will being composed of soulless sam, dean smith, and endverse cas.<br/>---------------------<br/>Bela Talbot, years after being taken to hell, surfaces back on earth, now as a demon, bearing a key to unlock a hellgate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perdition in A Purse

**Author's Note:**

> Someone please write more fics with demon!Bela

 

 

Slapping footsteps on the pavement outside cause Sam and Cas to look up at each other across the room and then too the door of the motel. Neither expects Dean to be the one to yank the door open and come crashing into the room. He slams it shut and braces himself against it, panting like he’s run a Marathon.

“Guess … who’s back … from Hell?” he says between gulps of air.

“That list is a little long for the guessing game,” Cas says mildly.

“Just tell us.”

Dean leans forward to catch his breath, one finger held in the air telling them to wait. When he gets some semblance of coherency he leans back against the door and reveals the name; “Bela Talbot.”

Sam actually looks surprised, “Bela Talbot?”

Dean nods, “I was at Whole Foods and I saw her through the window coming out of an office building across the street. Shit, I didn’t even get to check out. I’m gonna have to go back and find everything again.”

“Wait, that’s it? You didn’t tail her? See where she went?”

“No, I _did_. That’s why I didn’t check out. She went to her hotel. I didn’t have anything but my game warden badge with me since _someone_ flushed my FBI and police badges down the toilet.”

“They were horrible pictures of you,” Cas flips a page in the magazine he’s reading, then takes a drag from his cigarette, “And I’m going to insist it was an accident.”

“How is that –?!“

“Dean! Get to the point!”

Dean huffs, “Well, I didn’t have anything that would help to get me information from the concierge so I went back to the building I’d seen her come out of. The guy at the front desk was just past his twink years, seemed like he might be nostalgic for them.” At this, Cas looks up. Sam only rolls his eyes at the unnecessary information. “So I lost the tie,” Dean gestures to his bare neck, “and went to town flirting with him. Told him I was Bela’s secretary and she was sure she’d lost an earring. I asked him if he’d help me look for it and he was more than happy to assist.” Dean grins. He finally steps away from the door to cross the room, walking past both of them.

“Is there more?” Sam asks, clearly offended at the lack of detail and having to ask again.

“Yeah, but I’ve gotta use the restroom.”

“Did you motivate him sexually?” Cas asks in earnest.

“Cas, you of all people should know I don’t kiss and tell,” he shuts the bathroom door soundly.

“What does that mean?” Sam asks.

“What indeed,” Cas mumbles.

When Dean reemerges, he jumps back into the story, without leaving space for questions. “Anyways, I learned that the whole office building, minus the massage therapy place on the third floor, is a front for demonic activity. And that Bela was there, she brought a bag with something important, and left the building with a plan for what to do with the contents.”

“So what was so important?”

“A portal.”

“A portal?” Cas asks.

“More specifically, a hellgate. It’s contained in the purse. And we need to take it before the demons use it.”

"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that we are literally … going after hell in a handbag?" Sam doesn’t even look remotely amused.

"Yep." Dean pops the ‘p’ and grins.

Sam thinks for a minute, eyes darting blindly from object to object on the table as he thinks. “Okay, so we just take it.”

"Great idea!” Dean says in a patronizing tone with a sweeping hand-gesture. “Except, _wait_ that'll be impossible! She's going to keep it on her 24/7."

"Not if she's distracted."

"And how could she possibly be distracted from something as monumental as what is in that bag?"

Sam shrugs, "All I'm saying is that maybe while she's in town, she goes to a bar, picks someone up and takes him back to her place where they have mind blowing sex that is so good she goes straight to sleep, providing the opportunity for someone to lift the special bag." Dean waits for the catch. "And that I would be that someone."

"There we go.” He stands to walk away, “Not gonna happen, Sam. She'll recognize you right away!"

“So? She’ll be able to tell that I’m soulless! Soulless people don’t have ‘agendas.’ She won’t suspect a thing.”

Cas takes one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray, “I think Sam’s right.”

“Cas! You’re supposed to be on my side! He’s just suggesting this so he gets laid a-and so he can fulfill some ancient wet dream fantasy he has.”

“Both, motives I can respect,” Cas flips a page and raises his hand for a high-five which Sam gives willingly as he crosses the room and passes the angel on the way to his duffle.

“Even without feathers you’re the best wing-man, dude.”

Cas huffs a soft laugh, “Sam, your comedic insight outweighs your insensitivity.”

Sam nods analytically, “Yes.”

“You two are both the worst,” Dean grumbles to himself.

 

 

They’ve been driving in silence for about fifteen minutes and they’re almost to their destination.

"Perdition in a purse."

"What?"

"Hell in a handbag, or Perdition in a purse."

"That's … that’s not a thing anyone says."

"No but it could be. We can start saying it.” Cas turns his gaze out the passenger window, “It has sentimental value for us."

“Sentimental– ? Get out of the car.”

They’ve pulled into a parking space in the parking garage adjacent to the hotel.  

 

“This was a terrible idea,” Dean grouses, as they exit the revolving doors and stride into the well-lit lobby.

“No, it was insightful. Besides there was only one other person I could think of who she would have preferred to have sex with.”

“What?! Why didn’t you pipe up earlier?”

Cas gives him a pointed look, “Me? Allow Bela to get her demonic claws in _you_? Not a chance.”

“Yeah, only now she’s got them in Sam.”

“Well I don’t want to have _sex_ with Sam.” Cas pauses thoughtfully. “Correction; I don’t want to have sex with Sam as much as I want to have sex with you. And I care more about other people having –“

“Wait, _excuse me?”_

“Sam is highly attractive, and I’ll bet all the weed on me right now that he’s got an impressively propor-“

“Stop! Talking now.”

Cas lets a resting bitchface overtake his features and picks up a magazine from the side table.

Dean’s phone rings. “Room service,” he answers, only a little sarcastically.

“Yeah, hi, I’d like one pillow delivered to room six-oh-four?” Sam’s voice rings over the line.

Dean’s face wrinkles in disgust at the feminine giggling in the background and the obviously giggle-induced smile in Sam’s voice. “Absolutely, sir. That’ll be up right away. Have a good evening.”

“Thanks, you too.”

“That’s the signal,” Dean tells Cas. “Up we go.”

 

“What’s going on?” Dean asks a towel-clad Sam through a marginally cracked door.

“So, I thought it was just Ruby but all demons, apparently have _fantastic,_ superhuman stamina. Like almost as good as angels.”

“Wait, _angels?”_ Dean asks incredulously.

“Sam, are you coming?” Bela calls from the bathroom.

“Just a sec! Looking for my wallet. Gotta tip.”

“So-so-so what?” _Crap_ , Dean’s stuttering.

“So,” Sam looks over his shoulder, “I need more time to wear her out.”

“Gross, but okay, _fine_. How much longer?”

“Um … all night?”

“ _All-?!”_

“Saaaam,” Bela sing-songs from the other room.

“Look I’ll get it and be gone by tomorrow morning. Now go!” He practically shoves them out of the room and slams the door. Only to reopen it moments later and take the pillow they brought with them.

 

They’re silent on the elevator ride downstairs until Dean can’t take it any longer.

“…Have you and Sam had sex?”

“No.” Cas says dryly.

The doors open with a ding. “Who the fuck was he talking about?” Dean mutters.

Cas doesn’t bother rolling his eyes as he steps out of the lift.

 

 

Given that he hasn’t even knocked or texted Sam yet, Dean is shocked when Bela’s room door opens.

He is further surprised by the fact that is a grinning Bela who opens it, “Dean! I didn’t expect you for another ten minutes!”

Dean feels panicked, and by the way Bela’s Cheshire smile widens, he’s sure he looks it.

“I would have had Sam let you in, but – “ she gestures behind herself at Sam, sitting stiffly in a chair. Dean steps closer to get a better look at him and Bela pulls out a pistol, “as you can see, he’s all –“

“Woah! Hey!” Dean holds his hands up defensively.

“Was she really about to make the ‘all tied up’ joke?” Cas walks in nonchalantly, still drying his hands from using the washroom. He closes the door behind him, “Why doesn’t this hotel have paper towel dispensers? They’ve only got those air dryers.”

“Economic feasibility,” Dean says. He remembers when Sandover had switched to them. “Plus they’re more sanitary and economically friendly.”

“That last one’s just a rumor,” Bela says. “And for the record, that joke is a classic. It’s villain training 101.”

 “Are we here to speculate or can you tell me why my brother is tied up? Please tell me you’re holding him hostage because if it’s a kinky thing, I can tell you right now-”

“ _Please_ ,” she sneers, “I only use silk ropes for that sort of thing. Those are belts and demonic handcuffs holding him.”

“Why do _you_ have demonic handcuffs?” Dean shuffles towards the window as if to get a better look at the bindings, and she turns to face him.

“I make enemies just as easily in the afterlife. Competition welcomes them warmly.”

“And you think that letting thousands of them onto earth is going to make things better for you,” Dean crosses his arms and shifts to his left. Bela’s weapon-bearing hand flinches minutely.

“Ah, so you do know what little goodies I’ve got in my purse. I thought you might just be after it out of curiosity or mild paranoia.”

“That would be very typical of us, but no. This time we want the bag. The question is, why do you want it? You’re already topside.”

"How astute of you to notice.” Bela lowers her weapon to her side, “Only a few demons here and there get back up to earth. Hell wants to keep all the yummy stuff inside. Perpetuates the cycle of torture, you know."

“I know how hell works, Bela.”

“Then you also know that demons are willing to pay a _fortune_ for a way back here.”

“You still collecting rare objects then?”

“And loyalties. Having control over a thing like this,” she smirks and shrugs one shoulder, “it’s a recipe for instant-queen-of-hell.”

Dean nods knowingly, “So _that’s_ what this is about.” His eyes flick up from the floor to her, “Crowley know about any of this?”

Bela scoffs, “Hardly.”

“Then what was with the meeting yesterday?”

“That was me assembling the first member of my staff. I approached his third in command, one of the few demons I haven’t made bad with, and she’s as good as they come. I offered her promotion to second-in-command.” The only way Bela could possibly appear any more snobbish and self-assured would be if she were polishing her nails on her shirt. “She said yes.”

“Congrats,” Dean says sarcastically.

“Don’t fret, love. I’ll use discretion when I’m giving out access keys. Only the best and brightest, the most powerful, will be allowed back up here. You know, the ones who Crowley is currently trying to lock up and keep tucked away to become new Alistair’s?”

“That sounds wonderful, really. I can’t wait to get the invite to the ribbon-cutting ceremony.”

“Oh, that’s sweet!” she tuts, “You think you’ll be alive for that.”

“And why wouldn’t we be?” Dean steps backwards and shifts to the side again.

She raises her pistol and follows the motion, “Because I’m going to kill you now.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Dean smiles, then looking over her shoulder, shouts, “Cas, NOW!”

“Do you really think I’ll fall for-“

The sound of the door slamming, interrupts her and she whips her head around. The gun loses aim, Dean darts forward to snatch it and Sam, still tied to the chair, pitches headlong into her to knock her down. Dean grabs the gun before they fall to the ground with matching grunts.

“Wouldn’t fall for it, eh?” Dean grins down at her.

Sam’s groan of pain gets him moving. It only takes a few minutes for them to cuff Bela and tie her up in the chair. When they finish Dean tosses the keys up in the air just to taunt her. She just glares up at him, snarky comments obstructed by a gag.

Sam, hands on his hips, watches their captive analytically, “Well, I can check that off my bucket list.”

Dean turns from Sam to wink at her, “I’d take that as a ‘Don’t call me.’” He pats Sam on the shoulder, “She’s probably going to try and kill you if you try to hook up with her again.”

Sam nods in objective agreement. Bela’s glower doesn’t wilt, even as she rolls her eyes.

“Alright then, move out!”

Sam wanted to break the lock but Dean settled for hanging the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the handle. He reasoned that it would garner less attention.

 

When they get down to the car, the ex-angel is leaning up against its side, waiting for them. Dean thwacks Cas on the arm, “And _why_ did you think that stopping in the middle of the search to eat cream puffs was a good idea?!”

“I got the bag, didn’t I?”

“Not the point.”

“It was exactly the point, actually. Or should I just go return this to the front desk for Ms. Talbot?”

“ _Smartass_ ,” Dean mutters, walking around to the driver’s side.

He starts the car and shoots a glance to the rearview, “You hungry?”

Sam’s pained grunt doesn’t sound like any answer in particular.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Sam groans again as he flops down in the seat to rest.

Dean tosses his phone to Cas, “Find me the nearest Au Bon Pain. Ooh! Or a Corner Bakery Cafe.”

“...There’s a Subway seven miles from here.”

“That’ll do.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Exits are to your left, your right, and your rear, restrooms are to the front, Kudos and comments are found below, and as always very appreciated. Thank you for flying Air fem-castielnovak.


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